


The Courage of Ordinary Mortals

by hotleafjuice



Series: Sons and Daughters of Skyrim [7]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Depression, Finding Love, Friendship, Multi, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 04:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotleafjuice/pseuds/hotleafjuice
Summary: A story of living, loving, and finding your place in the world.





	The Courage of Ordinary Mortals

**Author's Note:**

> No beta

_ “All of us have special ones that have loved us into being.” _

_ -Fred Rogers _

 

Swanhvir watched the wagons roll away with this month’s shipment. The capital had doubled their demand for iron just after the war started. Now, from dawn to dusk all she did was swing a pickaxe with the rest of the miners of Stonehills.

The sweat on her brow had barely dried before Pactur started explaining the quota for next month.

 

***

 

Swanhvir added another armful of iron ore to the cart. This was her third cart today, but she didn’t feel the satisfaction of a job well done; she only felt numb.

She didn’t feel the burn of her muscles as iron met iron.

She ignored the burning in her lungs from inhaling stone dust.

Gestur sounded the bell to end the day, and Swanhvir wondered how the day flew by so quickly. The routine was always the same, and she couldn't clear the fog of apathy that had settled around her.   
  
She pushed sweat soaked hair back from her face, leaving streaks of dirt. She felt as though she could never scrub herself clean enough. She waved off Teeba-Ei and Sorli’s offer to join them for dinner. All she wanted to do was sleep, but it didn’t come easily. The world felt dream-like, and she felt her mind slipping away.   
  
The next day was exactly like the day before it.

 

***

 

Bracing herself against the handles of a mine cart, Swanhvir felt weighed down by own body. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the sudden sting of tears. She wanted to let go of everything. Where did one go to put down their burdens when they’re too heavy?   
  
“Swanhvir?” She jumped when Gestur placed his hand on her shoulder. “That’s enough for today, lass.” His voice was gentle, barely above a whisper.   
  
“I’m not done yet,” she gritted out, “I can still work.”   
  
Gestur slowly unfurled her fingers from the cart’s handles. “I know. You put in more ore than most of the men. Go rest. Sirgar has a mighty fine stew on the fire.”   
  
Swanhvir nodded slowly. “Oh. Alright.”

 

***

 

“Darkwater Crossing?” Swanhvir suddenly felt cold all over. “You’re firing me?”   
  
Gestur shook his head. “No, lass, they need a couple of pairs of hands. I gave Verner your name a while back.”   
  
Swanhvir fisted her hands against her thighs. “So you’re just sending me away then? You said I was just as good as the men.”   
  
“No, Swanhvir,” Gestur squeezed her shoulder,” There’s nothing wrong with your work. I think the change of scenery would be good for you. You’ll head out in three days with one of the supply caravans.”   
  
“I don’t have a choice then?” She crossed her arms, fighting the urge to just scream herself hoarse.   
  
“Not in this, lass. It’ll be good for you.”

 

***

 

Darkwater Crossing was warmer than Stonehills, and Verner was a tough but fair man to work for. Swanhvir brushed off attempts at friendship with the other miners, and eventually, they left her alone. She didn’t plan on staying long enough for it to matter.   
  
At dawn, she got up with the others, swung her pickaxe until the day was done, fell into bed, and did it all over again. She didn’t understand why Gestur thought this would be better.

The sun was struggling to break through the heavy clouds that had turned the world gray and heavy with the promise of rain for the past three days. Before the miners could finish their breakfast, the sky broke open.   
  
In the scramble to get the equipment covered and keeping the smelter from going cold, none of them heard the pounding of hooves until the bandits broke through the trees.

Heavily armed and armored, they descended on the tiny settlement.

The miners scattered, most of them running into the mine to lock themselves in. Verner was fending off one of the bandits with mighty swings of his pickaxe. Even Annekke was holding her own with a short sword in one hand and an axe in the other.

Swanhvir made a run for the mine, but didn’t get very far when one of the outlaws grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up onto his horse. She shrieked and struggled, trying to free herself, but her captor was much stronger than she was. She felt a jab of pain radiating up her spine then the world started to fade away. The last thing was could remember was the feel of rain against her skin.

 

***

 

Swanhvir woke with a headache and a  shackle around her left wrist. With half lidded eyes, she watched the bandits move back and forth, storing away their goods. The air was stale and heavy, and the only source of light was a few sporadically spaced torches.   
  
She pulled at the chain again, wincing when the metal bit into her skin.   
  
“That’s not going anywhere.” A shadow fell across her. “Just like you.” The man leaned forward and grabbed the front of her shirt to pull her more into the light. “I can see why the boss wanted you though. Maybe Jornnfing shouldn’t have all the fun.”   
  
Swanhvir tried to twist out of his grip. “Let go, you bastard!”   
  
“Come now, let Irnsan have a little taste.”   
  
She managed to shove her knee into his groin, sending him staggering back. A round of laughter bounced off the stone walls.   
  
“Fucking bitch!” Irnsan breathed in deeply, his face red with a mixture of pain and anger.   
  
Her captor suddenly appeared, looking more amused than upset. “Told you, Irnsan, this one’s a fighter.” Jornnfing looked down at Swanhvir, and his predatory gaze made her shrink away from him. “Let’s get the rest of this merchandise moved!”   
  
Swanhvir watched them work for a while. She hated the way they walked by her with food, leaving her shaking with hunger and cold. It was impossible to keep track of time, and after awhile she laid down and let the world drift away.

The sound of her chain rattling startled her out of a dead sleep. Jornnfing stood over her, his smile oddly charming. “Alright. Let’s get you fed.” He hauled Swanhvir up by her arm, and his grip was painfully tight. “Fight me, and I’ll just gut you right here.”   
  
Swanhvir sagged in response, her head hanging low. Jornnfing took her into a small room that was crudely hewn from stone. There was nothing but a bedroll and scattered rocks. Before Swanhvir could process what was happening, Jornnfing shoved her against the wall.   
  
He pulled at her clothes, and she immediately started to struggle to free herself. His body was unmovable and his hands bruising.

“Stop fighting me.” He shoved her again, her head slamming painfully against the stone.   
  
Her vision swam, and she was suddenly cold when her shirt was ripped away. He wrestled her to the floor, and that sent a jolt of panic racing along her spine. She pushed and squirmed, but he wouldn’t be moved.   
  
He yanked her trousers down hard enough to rip the fabric. Swanhvir blindly groped the floor until her fingers curled around a rock.   
  
Jornnfing held her down with one hand and was working his trousers open with the other.   
  
She bashed the rock against the side of his head. He grunted and rolled off to the side. He started to reach for her, and she hit him again. Swanhvir wrapped both of her hands around the stone and slammed it against the back of his head.

Jornnfing was unconscious with blood pouring from his head wound.   
  
Swanhvir swung her leg over his back, and brought the rock down again and again. Blood splattered up her arms and across her chest. She didn’t stop until the stone slipped from her bloody hands.

There was nothing recognizable about Jornnfing from the lump of meat and bone she left behind.

She got to her feet, gagging and fighting the urge to wail. Her breathing was uneven and ragged, but she remained standing. After pulling the tattered blanket from the bedroll around her shoulders, she peered out from the room. There wasn’t any discernible movement, and she couldn’t hear anyone.   
  
She took the dagger from Jornnfing’s body and slowly eased out into the passageway. She didn’t know the way out, but she knew that she couldn’t stay still either. Hugging the wall, she took a passage that sloped upward. She silently prayed to anyone that was listening to let her find the way.   
  
“Haven’t seen the boss in a while.”   
  
Swanhvir ducked behind some crates.   
  
“Probably won’t. He’s with that wench he picked up the other day.”   
  
Swanhvir crouched down, trying to make herself as small as possible. Eventually, the voices faded and the footsteps no longer echoed. She waited a few more minutes before creeping the way they came.   
  
She felt the burst of air before she saw the entrance. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone standing guard, but she couldn’t see beyond the raggedly planks of wood that made up the front door.

She sat with her ear to the door, straining to hear anything, but there was nothing beyond the wind whistling through the cracks. Deciding to chance it, Sawnhvir slowly and carefully eased the door open. The moons greeted her, and she took in a few deep gulps of fresh air.   
  
There was movement to her right.   
  
“Hey---what---”   
  
Reflexively, she turned, bringing the dagger down on the woman guarding the entrance. The bandit sputtered and fell back, the dagger sticking out of her neck. Swanhvir wrenched the blade free and ran.

 

***

 

Three days. Swanhvir had been wandering the wilds for three days, and she was no closer to finding civilization than when she started. She tugged her blanket tighter across her chest. Luckily, there was water to be found, but she was starving.   
  
She followed the river until at last it came to a bridge, which led to a road. Tears flooded her eyes, and she nearly collapsed in relief. There had to be someone on the roads.   
  
Her salvation came in the form of a young dark elf woman. After stumbling along the road for nearly an hour, Swanhvir almost missed the movement in the trees. The dagger shook in her hands, and the intruder immediately jumped back.   
  
A few tears dripped down Swanhvir’s face, and the dagger clattered to the ground. “Help me. Please.” She sunk to her knees, curling in on herself.

The elf pulled her back to her feet. After making sure Swanhvir wasn’t just going to collapse, she took her back through the trees and to a small farm where the air hummed with the soft song of nirnroot. Swanhvir closed her eyes, her body finally starting to shut down.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to a warm room and a soft bed.

“There you are.” A dark elf appeared at her side. “We were starting to worry.”

Swanhvir tried to push herself up, but a pair of gentle hands kept her in place.

“You rest now.”

 

***

 

The elf was still at her side when she awoke again. She was engrossed in a book, and Swanhvir took a moment to study her. There wasn’t much to see with the curtain of dark hair obscuring her face from view, so she watched her slate-gray hands turn the pages of her book.   
  
She must have made a noise, because the woman turned to her suddenly. “You’re awake. Good.” She leaned forward, showing off opaque, colorless eyes.   
  
“Where… am…” Swanhvir managed to sit up on her own but only just barely.   
  
“Sarethi farm in the Rift.” She poured some water. “I’m Aduri. My older sister… Avrusa nursed you back to health. Luckily, she’s a talented alchemist.”   
  
“How long have I been…” She swallowed down some water. “How long…”   
  
“Two days.”   
  
“Oh.” She cleared her throat a few times, but her voice still sounded rough. “My name is Swanhvir.”

  
  
***

  
Swanhvir woke to a hushed conversation between Avrusa and Aduri.   
  
“Have you decided if I can head up to Solitude yet? I hear it's the best place to meet someone who may be willing to teach me to paint.” Aduri sounded tentatively hopeful.   
  
Avrusa shook her head. “I'm sorry, Aduri, not this year. Perhaps next year after the harvest, I don't know. There's so much to do.”   
  
“It's not going to be next year, nor the year after that. You just care about this farm more than you care about me!” Aduri turned to storm off, but her sister held her arm tight.   
  
“Listen. Painting won't put food on the table, but our crops will. Be patient Aduri... it will happen someday.” Avrusa sighed. “I promise.”   
  
Aduri pulled away with a frown, but she didn’t argue further. This was a tired argument between them, and it felt rehearsed at this point. Aduri didn’t understand why she kept asking knowing that her sister’s answer would never change.

“Ah, you’re up.” Avrusa brushed by her, heading to Swanhvir. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” she replied quietly. She didn’t know what else to say to these strangers. These women had taken her into their home, but she couldn’t find the words to express gratitude. The dark thought rose up that she wished that they had left her to die in the wilderness.

Avrusa nodded. “Good. Aduri, “ she looked over her shoulder, “See to our guest. I have to get back to work.”

Aduri waited until her sister left before plopping down in the chair next to the bed. “Where are you from? Do you travel a lot? Did you get lost.” She gasped softly. “Are you an adventurer?”

Swanhvir recoiled at the barrage of questions, not knowing where to start. The words stuck in her throat.

“I’m sorry.” Aduri looked down at her hands. “We don’t really get any visitors out here.”

“Stonehills.”

“Huh?”

Swanhvir managed a tight smile. “I’m from Stonehills. And I’m a miner.” She closed her eyes, angry at herself for the sudden burn of tears.

“Are you alright?” Aduri leaned forward, trying to catch her eyes.

Those soft words hurt her in a way that she didn’t understand, and once the tears started, she couldn’t stop them. A gasping, ugly sound choked her, and that made Aduri reach out to take her hands. Swanhvir was shaking, and she let the elf pull her into a hug.

 

***

 

Swanhvir didn’t want to talk about how she ended up lost in the forest, and Aduri decided to never bring it up. Avrusa didn’t complain about have an extra mouth to feed, but Swanhvir was determined to be of use. She didn’t know much about farming, but she knew manual labor.

She had been on Sarethi farm for almost three weeks before Aduri came to her with a plan.

“You want to leave?” Swanhvir frowned deeply.

“Not forever, but Avrusa is never going to let me leave this farm. I don’t want to spend my whole life here. I want to travel. I want to go to Solitude. All the best artists and writers and bards all make their home there.” Aduri looked so earnest.

“It’s all the way on the other side of Skyrim. You know that?”

“So, people journey there all the time.” A slow smile spread across her face. “And I’ve been saving up for years now… just a few septims here and there. I want to go, and you can come with me.”

“Me? Really?”

“Yeah. You don’t want to go back to Stonehills.” She grabbed her hand. “Oh! You could get a job in one of the shops. No more mining.”

It all sounded incredibly idealistic, but Aduri was right about her not wanting to go back to mining. “You really want to do this?”

“Yes.”

 

***

 

Swanhvir felt torn just leaving a note for Avrusa, especially given all she had done in taking her into her home. Aduri insisted and even left a little bit of gold.

They left under the cover of the darkness of the new moons. Aduri could see better in the dark than Swanhvir, so she had to trust the elf not to get them lost until morning.

They headed north from the farm, keeping strictly to the roads. The first two days of travel were pretty uneventful, and if they kept to their schedule, they would reach Whiterun City in another day.

Valtheim towers sat along one of the main roads into Whiterun. It was inhabited by bandits, but they didn’t realize that until there was nowhere to hide.

Swanhvir wasn’t much of a fighter, but she could swing a sword with the strength of fifteen years worth of mining behind it. Aduri knew several basic spells, mostly flame.

The bandits weren’t terribly coordinated, but there was enough them that they had to run.

One of them latched onto Aduri, and Sawnhvir whirled around with a cry of rage, burying a small knife in his throat. She grabbed the elf, and pulled her along at a punishing pace.

Help came along in the form of a traveler coming from the opposite direction. Swanhvir barely had time to cry out before an arrow sailed by and struck the bandit in the shoulder.

None of them turned around to see if anyone was following before Swanhvir grabbed their unexpected helper and dragged them along with Aduri. They didn’t stop until they crossed the bridge over to Whiterun.

Aduri’s legs were shaking so badly that she had to sit down. Swanhvir was red, sweating, and breathing in deep gasps.

“Hey, are you both alright?” With the hood of their cloak gone, they looked up at a young nord woman with a soft, round face.

Swanhvir managed to nod. “Yeah. Fine.”

Aduri was still shaking, and Swanhvir reached out and took her hand. “Alright?”

“Alright.” She looked up and forced a weak smile. “Thanks...”

“Sylgja.” She adjusted the large bag hanging over her shoulder. Her short bow was clutched tightly in her other hand. “My name is Sylgja.”

 

***

 

“You were at Darkwater Crossing?” Sylgja looked up from her drink. The Bannered Mare was very lively this time of evening, but the three women tucked themselves as far out of view as possible.

Swanhvir nodded. “Aye. For a few weeks.”

“Then you met my father. Verner?”

“Your mother, too. They were… good the last time I saw them.”

“I’m glad. I don’t get out that way as much as I would like.” She looked at Aduri out of the corner of her eye. “What about you? Are you a miner?”

“No. Farmer.” She hugged her knees to her chest. “I want to be a painter, though. It’s why we’re going to Solitude.”

Swanhvir took a swig of ale. “Were you on your way back home?”

“Yeah. I was… hurt. Real bad.” She cleared her throat. “About a year ago. I can’t work the mine like I used to. I mostly make supply runs these days.” There was an edge of bitterness to her tone. “I was in Shor’s Stone, not far from Riften.”

“Are you heading back to Shor’s Stone?” Aduri peered at her over her knees.

Sylgja shrugged.

Aduri looked between the two nords, both of them full of sorrow in their own way. “Have you ever been to Solitude?”

A quiet laugh. “No, I haven’t.”

“You should come with us.”

Swanhvir’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Aduri, you can’t collect every nord you see on the way to Solitude.”

Aduri answered with an exaggerated pout. “Of course I can.” She looked at Sylgja with a gentle expression. “You want to go with us? Spend the night here then head out in the morning?”

Sylgja lowered her head, staring down at her scarred hands with a frown. She truly didn’t want to go back to mining. She hated feeling useless, and she hated the pity of the other miners. “Alright.”

 

***

 

The day dawned bright and cold with a cloudless sky. Sylgja and Swanhvir loved breathing in the fresh air, both of them having spent too many years in the mines. Aduri was bundled up, but she enjoyed the sunshine.

They traveled south from Whiterun city before turning west on the road to Rorikstead. The land was flat, allowing them to see great distances in all directions.

From the village of Rorikstead, they went north, not stopping until they reached Dragon Bridge. And from Dragon Bridge, it was less than a day’s journey to Solitude.

 

***

 

Solitude was the capital of Skyrim and its largest city. Aduri had never seen walls and towers so tall. People streamed in and out of the main gates, each seemingly in a hurry. She was a little disappointed to see so few dunmer.

“It’s a lot bigger than I imagined,” Sylgja said as she looped her arm through Aduri’s. Swanhvir walked a ways ahead, wanting to get to the markets before they started to close for the day.

To save money, the three of them rented a single room at the Winking Skeever and split a single meal.

It was a tight fit, but Swanhvir didn’t mind. Aduri seemed to like being squished in the middle. Sylgja lay next to the wall curled around Aduri. Swanhvir wanted that sort of closeness but didn’t know how to go about it.

 

***

 

“Corpulus said he would hire me as a server on a trial basis.”

Aduri grinned. “See, Swanhvir. No more mining for you.”

“Katla said that she’d need some help for harvest times… but i don’t know what to do now.” Sylgja ran her hand through her hair with a sigh. “Maybe, I can help with deliveries in the marketplace.”

“Well, our money won’t last forever.” Swanhvir looked to Aduri. “Have you talked to Viarmo?”

“Oh, yes. He  said he currently has a painter in residence, Dorothique Matreinace. He said that I could meet with her next week.” She grabbed Swanhvir’s hands. “Can you imagine it? Me! A painter, finally.” She squealed in delight, making the others laugh.

 

***

 

“You’re doing good work here, Swanhvir.” Corpulus looked up from his leger as she walked by with a tray of empty glasses. “I’d like to keep you on.”

She tried not to laugh, not wanting to burst with the sudden swell of happiness she cannot remember feeling since she was a child. “I would… like that. Very much.” She ducked her head, hiding a small, pleased smile.

“And I know Angeline Morrard has space to rent in her house. You’re welcome to stay here, of course, but I know you and your friends have been asking around about permanent lodgings.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vinius. You have been… so kind.” She looked up at him then quickly away.

Corpulus waved his hand. “You put in the work, my dear. I’ll finish up here. You go on, now.”

Swanhvir stopped by the kitchen to leave the tray then practically raced upstairs, startling Aduri and Sylgja when the door burst open.

“The job is mine!”

There was a moment of silence then hugs. Swanhvir wasn’t used to hugs, or touching, but she found a lot of comfort in their embrace. She wrapped her arms tighter around them and buried her face in Aduri’s shoulder.

 

***

 

“Madame Matreinace is critiquing my first painting soon.” Aduri tugged at her skirts. “I… wanted you to be there.” She sounded unusually shy.

Sylgja and Swanhvir nodded.

“Of course we’ll be there.”

They have been in Solitude for almost three months now, and it seemed things were finally slotting into place. Swanhvir had a job at the Winking Skeever, Aduri practiced her painting and performed errands for the Bards College, and Sylgja found work at the lumber mill just outside the city. They had their own space above Angeline's Aromatics.

“I overheard Madame Matreinace complimenting my brushwork yesterday.” Aduri bounced with excitement. “Maybe one day I could paint something for the palace.” She grinned but it dimmed after a moment. “I sent Avrusa a letter two weeks ago… but nothing…”

Sylgja rested her head on her shoulder. “Just give her some more time. Two weeks isn’t very long, you know.”

Swanhvir sat on Aduri’s other side, laying her head on her shoulder as well. “I might take a month or more for her to get the letter, reply, then have it come all the way back to Solitude.”

“You’re right.” Aduri gave them a watery smile. “Thank you.”

 

***

 

“You looking for some work?”

Aduri stopped, turning on her heel. “What did you say?” She could feel her face getting hot.

“I got some work if you’re interested.”

Screwing up her courage and indignation, she marched up to the argonian. Before he could say another word, she slapped him across the face. It probably hurt her more than him, her skin stinging from the argonian’s scales, but she did not care. “I. Am. Not. A. Whore.”

Aduri stormed off, leaving a stunned argonian and fodder for gossip later at the Winking Skeever.

 

***

 

Sylgja and Swanhvir tried not to fidget for Aduri’s sake; the dark elf looked nervous enough standing next to a tall, thin canvas. Holding hands, they waited with bated breath as Dorothique Matreinace stood thoughtfully in front of Aduri’s painting. Several members of the Bard’s College attended as well.

The painting depicted the mysterious beauty of Aetherius slowly fading into the the heavens then fading into the night sky. The moons shone down on the city of Solitude, highlighting key landmarks.

“Aduri?”

She stood at attention, and willed her hands not to pull nervously at the fabric of her skirt.

“The vision for this is quite beautiful. Oils are my favorite medium, and I see you took my lessons to heart.” Dorothique had a very thick Betony accent. “I applaud your bold colors. You’ve done quite well. With more practice, your name could be prominent in the art world.”

Aduri bowed her head, her dark hair hiding falling forward. “Thank you.”

“I would actually like to hang this in my rooms while I’m here.”

“Of course!” Aduri fisted her hands against her thighs, fighting the urge to jump into Swanhvir and Sylgja arms in her excitement.

 

***

 

“I think Kharag is going to the be death of me.” Sylgja threw herself down on the low couch near the fireplace. “I swear he gets grumpier with each passing day. Hjorunn isn’t much better.” She huffed.

Aduri sat on the opposite end of the couch and took Sylgja’s feet into her lap. “They still taking on more orders than they can actually handle?”

“Gods, yes. There’s only three of us and there’s only so much work that can be done in a day. Things weren’t this bad at Shor’s Stone.”

“You’re not going to leave are you?” Aduri suddenly looked panicked. The thought of going back to a lonely, empty life on a farm terrified her.

Sylgja shook her head. “Of course not. You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.” Slowly, she sat up. “Are you alright, Aduri.”

“I don’t want to go back. I hate that lonely farm and working for nothing.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Swanhvir.”

Sylgja leaned forward, her gaze searching. Aduri felt her cheeks grow warm. They both inched forward but the sound of the door opening startled them apart.

A few moments later, Swanhvir came up the stairs, carrying with her the scent of food and woodsmoke.

 

***

 

Swanhvir watched Aduri and Sylgja debate over what to buy at the marketplace. Seeing them together made something twist tightly in her chest. It didn’t quite take her breath away, but she was stunned all the same.

She had noticed the two of them getting closer over the past several weeks, and it stung in a way that she couldn’t entirely understand. They were strong, stronger than her, she thought.

 

***

 

Summer slowly slid into autumn. A few weeks prior, Sylgja quit her job at the mill to apprentice under Beirand. She was much happier shaping steel than hauling lumber. It was still hard work, but the ache she felt at the end of the day was worth it. The extra gold didn’t hurt either.

Lately, Swanhvir had been taking extra shifts at the inn, and neither Aduri or Sylgja could figure out why. They were not hurting for money with three incomes, and any attempt to bring it up was met with polite resistance.

And work was taking its toll on Swanhvir. It was the same sort of fog in her mind when she was in Stone Hills. Carting rocks was replaced with serving food, drinks, and cleaning. Vaguely, she was aware the others were concerned, but she could not shake the malaise and apathy that slid so neatly back into her life.

Swanhvir was so used to the drudge of living, she quickly forgot that she had ever felt any other way. She felt like a ghost, drifting from once place to next without leaving indication that she was ever there.

 

***

 

Sylgja and Aduri sat with their heads bent together, nearly sharing the same air.

“Aduri…” Sylgja slid her hands up the sides of Aduri’s neck and rested them gently on her cheeks. “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” she replied thickly. She studied the dark wisps of hair around Sylgja’s face and this close she could see there was a hint of green in her brown eyes. She leaned forward, gently touching her lips to hers.

Sylgja’s hands slid around Aduri, and she pulled her close. She kissed her gently, almost afraid. When Aduri kissed her again, Sylgja surged forward, suddenly unable to be close enough.

 

***

 

Swanhvir looked up as Aduri plopped down on one side of her and Sylgja sat on the other. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she hated how concerned they looked. She didn’t want pity.

“Swanhvir, please.” Aduri took her hand, folding their fingers together. “Tell us what’s wrong. Tell us and we can help you fix it.”

“I… don’t know,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s… wrong. No,  _ empty _ . Like one of your canvases.”

Sylgja took her other hand, lacing her fingers with hers. “Like when you talk about being in Stone Hills.”   
  
She nodded. “Yeah, like that.”

“We’re not leaving you, you know.” Aduri laid her head on her shoulder. “We plan on keeping you.”

Sylgja shook her head with a soft laugh. “I probably wouldn’t have phrased it quite that way. But we’re here for you.” She gently turned Swanhvir’s face toward her. “Always.”

 

***

 

They sat on the docks. It was cold but they were bundled up, and the sharp air was fresher than the inside the city. They watched the cargo ships come and go, and there may be better ways to spend an afternoon, but they were content enough.

As usual, Swanhvir sat in the middle, Aduri on one side and Sylgja on the other. Swanhvir felt protected sitting between them, but she didn’t know how to say that. She had also noticed how much closer the other two were, and that sent a bittersweet ache through her.

 

***

 

Just before the bitter cold of winter fully set in, Avrusa came to Solitude. There weren’t many dark elves in the city and one asking about another quickly lead to Aduri.

Avrusa found her sister just outside the Bard’s College, a blank canvas under one arm and painting supplies under the other.

“Aduri?”

Her head snapped up, and she stared unbelieving for a few moments. She hadn’t seen or heard from Avrusa in ten months. Aduri fumbled with her supplies, and Avrusa stepped up to help.

“Ah, let’s… come with me.” Aduri hurried her sister toward home.

Avrusa waited until her sister set her painting material aside before grabbing her into a tight hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” She held Aduri at arm’s length. “Angry… but… so glad.” She hugged her once more.

“Avrusa, you came.” Aduri suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands, and she decided making a late lunch was the answer. “You got my letter…”

“I did.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I never replied. I was just so angry that you left without a word.”

“I… won’t say I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye though.” She sliced thick hunks of bread to serve with the stew Sylgja made yesterday. “I’m happy here. I’m a painter. I have my...friends.”

Avrusa’s expression softened. “I’m happy for you, Aduri.” She was glad to see her little sister doing what she had dreamed of for so many years. “Tell me everything.”

Later, Aduri let her sister take her room, which had mostly become storage space after sharing a bed with Sylgja. While she was truly glad to see Avrusa, she couldn’t stop the niggling feeling of fear that she would take her back to the farm.

Swanhvir treated Avrusa kindly, remembering how she had sheltered her in the past. Sylgja didn’t seem to know what to make of the woman, but she was polite, if for no other reason than for Aduri’s sake.

 

***

 

Swanhvir watched Aduri and Sylgja seemingly dance around each other as they made dinner. They were better cooks than she was, so she usually just stayed out of the way.

Afterward, they made it a point to sit on either side of her. Swanhvir had the feeling they were planning something, but she had no clue as to what it could be. But there had been to many whispered conversations and late-night giggling for there not to be something. Maybe she was just paranoid.

“Swanhvir…” Sylgja smiled gently, her eyes crinkled in genuine happiness. “Aduri and I…”

“Are together,” she interrupted. “I figured that out.” She stood, suddenly irritated and wanting to be alone.

Aduri snagged her arm. “But that’s not it. Not exactly.”

Sylgja and Aduri shared a look, and Swanhvir did her best not to snap at them.

“Please, just…”

“We want you to be with us,” Sylgja cut in, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Swanhvir frowned. “We’re together everyday.”

Aduri shook her head. “Together… all three of us.”

“Like this.” Sylgja slowly turned her face toward her and kissed her.

Swanhvir pulled back. “But…”

Aduri moved in front of her, taking her hand. “With us.” She pressed a soft kiss to her cheek then her lips.

“Together?” Swanhvir looked stunned. “Together…” Tears flooded her eyes.

“No, no…” Aduri kissed her once more. “Don’t cry.”

Sylgja took Swanhvir’s other hand, pulling her to her side. “The three of us.”

Swanhvir kissed Sylgja slowly, a couple of tears rolling down her cheeks. She kissed Aduri next then buried her face in the crook of her neck.

“Together.”


End file.
